A Hole in the World
by PlanetDestroyer-CarpetSlippers
Summary: When the Doctor and Martha go to visit an archaeological dig just outside London what they are expecting are fusty professors in mackintosh's and a lot of old bones. What they find threatens to destroy the planet. SCRIPT FORMAT


FADE IN  
EXT. TARDIS – VORTEX

We watch as the blue box spins lazily through the vortex, shifting with the time currents, seemingly on autopilot.

INT. CONSOLE ROOM – TARDIS

The room seems deserted and still, save for MARTHA, stretched out on the pilot seat, holding a book above her head, trying futilely to engage with it. Sighing to herself, she rolls over onto her front, then her side, trying to get comfortable, to distract herself. Finally, bored beyond distraction,

MARTHA  
Doctor, are you anywhere near finished?  
(no response, calling out)  
Doctor?

A moment passes before

THE DOCTOR

(O. S.)  
Yep.

A section of grating lifts off the floor and THE DOCTOR, spectacles and all, face smeared with grime, suit distinctly crumpled, pops his head up. MARTHA gets up from her seat, expectantly.

MARTHA  
Anywhere near finished?

THE DOCTOR  
Ah.

(pause)  
No. Sorry.

MARTHA  
Doctor, you've been working down there for

(pause)  
I don't even know.

At this, THE DOCTOR hauls himself out of the hole, perching on the edge.

THE DOCTOR  
Well, stuff needs doing.

MARTHA  
Stuff? What kind of stuff?

THE DOCTOR  
Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey…

Noticing her deadly expression, he stops, reconsiders.

THE DOCTOR  
Big stuff. Important stuff.

MARTHA  
Like?

THE DOCTOR  
Well, the vortex control loop needs stabilizing, the vector tracker wants recalibrating, I've got the recursive warp manipulator stripped down to pieces, and the tribophysical waveform macro-kinetic extrapolator is banjaxed.

MARTHA can't help but smile.

MARTHA  
Banjaxed? Is that a technical term.

THE DOCTOR  
(grinning)  
Of course.

Idly twiddling with the console, MARTHA turns to THE DOCTOR, serious again.

MARTHA  
Well, in the meanwhile what am I supposed to do?

THE DOCTOR  
There's the games room.

MARTHA  
I swear, if I have to play darts by myself one more time.

THE DOCTOR  
Swimming?

MARTHA  
You jettisoned the pool when we needed more thrust to get away from that imploding sun. Remember?

THE DOCTOR  
(in recollection)  
Right. Black holes. Eat time. Nasty.

(pause)  
There's the TV.

There's a novel thought.

MARTHA  
You have TV?

THE DOCTOR

(defensive)

Yeah.

He gestures: the scanner.

MARTHA  
As in proper TV?

THE DOCTOR  
Yeah, about a million channels or so.

MARTHA  
A million.

THE DOCTOR  
I know, I was going to go for the gold package or whatever they called it, but I just don't watch it enough really to –

MARTHA's already there, tuning it in.

MARTHA  
(not looking up)  
I'm not gonna get some weird alien rubbish, right?

THE DOCTOR  
It's tuned to Earth. 2009. Should be keeping perfect time with when we last landed.

MARTHA  
Brilliant.

(pause, glances up)  
Doctor, what happens to TV in the future?

THE DOCTOR  
Oh, you've still got it. It just gets bigger. More interactive.

(pause)  
And with those probe things they stick into your head. Full neuro interface. Don't want to get caught without a license. They can take your brain in as evidence. Imagine that. Having your own brain used in court again you. Bonkers!

(rant over, suddenly calm)

Anyway, they've got a great one with bears.

Controls figured out, MARTHA switches on to BBC just as the evening news begins. Looking over, THE DOCTOR's already disappeared back down his warren.

MARTHA

(shaking her head, affectionate)  
Boys and their motors.

His papers shuffled, the ANCHORMAN gives a warm, knowing smile to the viewer, before

ANCHORMAN  
Good evening. This is the news at six.

(beat)

Our top story this evening: A prehistoric find as-yet unprecedented in British history has been made just outside of the capital.

The scene changes to that of a muddy field on a sunny afternoon. There are various ARCHAEOLOGISTS bustling around in the background, mostly knelt in the dirt, some moving through the complex series of trenches. The sound of traffic can be heard from a nearby motorway. In the foreground is PROFESSOR AMELIA DAVIS, early 30s, short blonde hair, attractive but consummately professional.

INTERVIEWER  
(O. S.)  
SO, exactly what is the nature of this discovery?

PROFESSOR DAVIES  
Well, so far we have been able to uncover almost twenty different specimens of dinosaur, including several species never before found in the British Isles.

INTERVIEWER  
Such as?

PROFESSOR DAVIES  
The creature your viewers may be most familiar with is that of the _Tyrannosaurus Rex_, whose remains have previously been limited mainly to the United States and Canada.

INTERVIEWER  
And what does this mean for the history books?

PROFESSOR DAVIES  
This is just another sign that Britain, far from being some desolate tundra region, was a vital breeding ground for these great lizards.

(gesturing)  
More than 100 different species of dinosaur once roamed this land, from Beachy Head to Land's End.

MARTHA twists in her seat, back to face the maintenance hatch.

MARTHA

(calling out)  
Doctor?

DOCTOR  
(muffled, O. S.)  
Huh?

MARTHA  
Fancy a trip to London?

At this, THE DOCTOR pops back out of the floor, his hair completely awry. MARTHA giggles.

THE DOCTOR  
(nonplussed)  
What?

MARTHA

Nothing.

(pause)  
There's been this big archaeological discovery just outside London. Loads of dinosaur skeletons, and --

THE DOCTOR  
And you were just wondering if we could plonk the TARDIS down in a field somewhere and go see what it's all about.

At this, MARTHA bounds up from the flight seat, rushes over to him.

MARTHA

(excited)

Can we?

THE DOCTOR

I didn't think you were a huge fan of dinosaurs?

MARTHA  
It's an important event the unfolding documentation of British prehistory.

She notes THE DOCTOR's somewhat skeptical expression.

MARTHA  
(contd.)  
And it's really boring sitting here, watching you do maintenance work.

THE DOCTOR

(pause)  
Yeah, alright.

MARTHA smiles happily, rises up, but

THE DOCTOR  
(contd.)

But don't expect me to get all happy-clappy and go wandering about in a ditch with you, alright.

MARTHA

(confused)  
You don't like history?

THE DOCTOR clambers out of the hole in the ground, sticks the grating back over it.

THE DOCTOR  
I love history. Living it, at least. When it's dead, I kind of lose interest in it.

Standing in front of the console, he wipes his face off on a rag from his pocket, and gets to work piloting the TARDIS. MARTHA beams; he grins in response.

EXT. ARCHAEOLOGICAL SITE -- MORNING

It's a bleary day and the rain is pattering down. Standing with an umbrella beside one of the trenches, PROFESSOR DAVIS watches the work being conducted. Although she is currently observing, the mud on her trousers, indeed her general muddiness, suggest that she is not one inclined to sit out on the dirty work.

PROFESSOR DAVIS  
Oh, beautiful, Claire. You mind getting that over to Professor Norris. Segment 7b, that's it. Brilliant.

As CLAIRE, mid-20s, petite and redheaded, clambers out the side of the pit, MARK, similar age, tall and skinny, with short, dark hair, appears at PROFESSOR DAVIS' side.

MARK  
Professor.

She jumps, turns, smiles weakly.

PROFESSOR DAVIS  
Mark… You almost scared the life out of me.

MARK  
(serious)  
Professor, you're going to want to see this.

EXT. SEGMENT 6J, ARCHAELOGICAL SITE -- CONTINUOUS

Stood at the edge, PROFESSOR DAVIS moves past MARK to stare down into the dirt at the bottom of the trench, apparently transfixed.

PROFESSOR DAVIS

My god…

MARK  
I know. It's amazing.

PROFESSOR DAVIS  
When did you --

MARK  
Just now.

(pause)  
I was sure someone must have contaminated the dig, but no. It's real, alright. Least it damn well looks it.

PROFESSOR DAVIS climbs unsteadily down into the sodden earth. She looks straight at us, at this mysterious object.

PROFESSOR

(breathless)  
This changes… everything.

CUE CREDITS


End file.
